I met Joe in college
I was a janitor
Working my way through school
He was on a basketball scholarship
Mostly sitting on the bench
I remember the day I met him
He walked up to me
Introduced himself
He was from Boulder City, Nevada
But had lived in Wyoming a few years ago
He had heard my name
Realized our brothers were good friends
His brother now in Vietnam
Was fighting a war
My brother chasing ships on the ocean
Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea
We became friends
Learned from each other
I taught him about school
He taught me about life
We experienced them both together
I was school smart
He was street smart
Together we were going to
Conquer the world
He then went his way
And I went mine
He went back to Nevada
I stayed in Wyoming
I remember when he called me relieved
That his brother had made it home safely
From Vietnam
A second call a few months later
Was the news his brother was killed in a car accident
Somewhere in California
Joe was a great gambler
A great athlete
And great person
Hidden behind a small attitude
I let the years slip by
Always knowing I would meet him again
Discuss the past
The many things we did together
Chase girls
Drink Beer
Play cards
Shoot baskets
Share stories
I called him one day
But found out he was not home
He was not out in the garage
Working on his vehicle
Or down at the store
Buying a loaf of bread
He was not home
Gone forever
He had passed this life
I was stunned
Joe is gone forever
I just hung up the phone
I did not want to know
What happened to him
It did not matter
He was just gone forever
I knew we would meet again
But I was wrong
I wasted too many years
Waiting for the phone to ring
Until I called him
Now the phone sits in silence
Unable to ring anymore
A friend lost
I had lost the opportunity
To say good bye
Good bye Joe
I miss you
As our silent conversations
Fill the air
for: Merle Haggard
He lived and died
In California
Oildale a small town
Near Bakersfield
The music from Bakersfield
Would be his driving force
But it was more than that
he wore his heart on his sleeve
Growing up in troubled times
He was his worst adversary at times
Trying to solve the problem of loneliness
By searching in the wrong directions
But he always held a guitar in his hands
A Johnny Cash concert at San Quentin
Gave him hope and desire
To find a way out
His loneliness never far behind him
As he took his heart from his sleeve
And put it into a song
Many songs
That reflected his journey
"Mama Tried"
"Sing Me Back Home"
"Irma Jackson"
"Ramblin' Fever"
Endless songs all reflecting his life
A true artist
More than a singer
More than a songwriter
A true legend
Telling his stories
In all the songs
He has left behind
"They're taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver Wings
Slowly fading out of sight."*
*from "Silver Wings" by Merle Haggard
It is hard to place you
Into perspective
Leaving an impression
Long after seventh grade
I often wonder
What were you doing
Teaching seventh grade
A graduate of Brown
From the Ivy League
Etymology Etymology
That is what you taught us
You spoke many languages
Always searching for the origin
Of words
But you left us
Before we finished seventh grade
Hitchhiking down the highway
Like so many times
You caught a ride
But you lost your life
Waiting for a ride
On that lonely highway
It was raining and cold
We learned so much from you
About life and death
And the highways we all
Have to travel
In our journey through life
for: Dr. Howe
He was a Philosopher
A teacher
A professor
A friend
A reader of books
Shelves piled high
With knowledge that filtered
Through his mind
His walls full of degrees
Certificates
Commendations
And an empty picture frame
I always wondered
What was lost inside the empty space
He gave me Steppenwolf
Turned me on to Hesse
My life would never be the same
Searching for so much
Through so many pages
He always said
the only difference
between him and I
Was that he read more books
and though I'll never catch up to him
He put me on a path
to keep reading
and chasing my dreams
And I realize today
A cup of coffee
Will never be the same
Without him
For: Sam & Linda
There is a river
That runs down through Colorado
Its beauty is in its life
And the road it has traveled
But you can’t drink the water
The trout fishing is not good
All that is left is a floating raft or two
And empty beer cans floating downstream
Relics of mankind gone mad
Don’t talk about forever
Or last Saturday night’s dream
I am into reality
In a world full of changes
Sam talks about the “Roach People”
And Linda the “Time Pirates”
All that is left is time
And it is gone
And the reflection of a man
In the mirror
That we can’t recognize
Anymore
The sky is blue and hazy
You cannot breathe the air
It hangs in the distance
Keeping the shadows away
That conceal themselves from the sun
The radio plays the old songs
But we don’t sing along
Anymore
Unable to remember the words
In a mind gone mad
Don’t talk about forever
Or last Saturday night’s dream
I am into reality
In a world full of changes
Sam talks about the “Roach People”
And Linda the “Time Pirates”
All that is left is time
And it is gone
And the reflection of a man
In the mirror
for: John
We crossed the bridge
So many times
John and I
On our way to school
An old rickety
Wooden walking bridge
It began in grade school
Through junior high
And high school
It was part of our life
Time moved on
We drifted apart
Two young boys
Growing up
In the same neighborhood
One becomes a teacher
The other a lawyer
But they both
Had their demons
Haunting them
His was an empty glass
Mine a glass overflowing
John would leave his law book behind
As he ended his life
On the bridge
which was so much
A part of our life
And now was part
Of death
As John crossed the bridge
One last time
I crossed the bridge today
Thought about John
His empty glass
While my glass is still Overflowing
Marty worked for his father
At a service station
Changed oil
Pumped gas
School was always something
Extra for Marty
Missed often unexcused
Thinking took little
Of his time
So did girls
Too busy
Emptying beer cans in his face
And driving like a madman
Gave me a ride home once
About midnight
90 miles an hour in town
Across railroad tracks
I thought he was crazy
I knew then
One day there was a wreck
Marty walked away
His friend didn’t
Spent months trying to survive
Learning how to think
And healed at 17
He walked with a cane
Somewhere in Kansas
Another wreck
This time Marty alone
Never walked away
The hospital listed him as DOA
The end could come
No other way for him
He was the last of the freight train riders
Rode the rails across the land
His home was an unmarked boxcar
Everchanging
Going one direction
It was the only life he knew
His only mode of transportation
Consisting of his feet
Walking toward the railroad tracks
Never rode in an automobile
It was easier following the path of the rails
Wrote poetry with true grit
Something you could sink your teeth into
Chew for a while
Digest slow and easy
Quick on his feet for seventy
Catch a boxcar on the move
Read his poetry in Laramie, Wyoming once
For an English class starved of literary giants
Talked about arrests from rail inspectors
Eating black bread
And drinking wine
Not the last supper
Just survival on the rails
The beginning of spring
No flowers yet, only the smell of rain
And the news hit my mind like lightening
Dead at 49
And I feel a little cheated
By your leaving too soon
So much like Hemingway
Leaving by your own hand
And your words flow through my mind
Like magic
“Death is a beautiful car parked only
To be stolen on a street lined with trees
Whose branches are like the intestines
Of an emerald
You hotwire death, get in, and drive away
Like a flag made from a thousand burning
Funeral parlors
You have stolen death because you’re bored
There is nothing good at the movies
In San Francisco
You joyride around a while listening
To the radio, and then abandon death, walk
Away, and leave death for the police to find.”
Out of touch, you lost yourself
In a metal world of mazes
And somewhere in San Francisco
You lost your mind between Montana and Japan
A friend saw it on the street as it waved good-bye
With an empty drink in its hand
“Death Is a Beautiful Car Parked Only,” is from The Pill Versus
the Springhill Mine Disaster, 1968, Richard Brautigan
She was a loner
Lived by herself
Drove a 1989 Chevy truck
Her body showed scars
From the past
She was trapped in a relationship
Gone wrong
She saw no way out
And bought a can of gas
On a cool Wyoming’s winter's night
She lit a match
And set herself on fire
It was a botched attempt
To end her life
Months in a hospital burn center
In an induced coma
She lived
One day opening her eyes
Hoping to see heaven
She saw her body connected
To machines
Keeping her alive
Today she talks calmly about it
Saying she must be careful
What she wears to cover the scars
I think about the scars in her mind
As we talk about the world tomorrow
Something she thought she
Would never see
Her days are filled with nights
That reflect stars
That do not shine
She sang cocaine blues
And cried
Wondering
What’s really going on
Her head spun in circles
And mind became
Trapped in cobwebs
She sang Summertime Blues
And cried
Realizing that the summer is
Coming to an end
She worshipped the earth
She walked upon
The mountains
Desert
Rain
Snow
She was never afraid
To express herself
Expanding sexual boundaries
Without limits
She taught us about life
By not throwing stones
When the grapevine tried
To destroy her
She turned away from man
Stood alone
And thought
She never realized
How alone could be
But picked up
The pieces of her life
And went home
To find herself
Jessica’s Poem
Today I spoke
At Jessica’s sentencing
She looked frail
And fragile
In shackles and chains
"Unsentenced" was the word
On her shirt
I spoke of who she was
Positive things on her ability
To live in a society
That forgot her
She chose too many wrong turns
Friends who used her
Threw her away
She faces 3 ½ years to think
Things over
Before she can leave
The shackles and chains
Behind her